


The Locutus Logs

by ShewasXena



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Angst, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-26
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-12-07 07:54:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11619237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShewasXena/pseuds/ShewasXena
Summary: Picard toils with a post-borg existence.(Set after The Best of Worlds part II





	The Locutus Logs

Captain’s Log, Stardate: 43989.2.

The Enterprise is stopping off at Jupiter Station to ferry survivors of the encounter with the Borg to Spacedock for further transport to Earth itself. I am debating giving the crew a day or two of shore leave upon arriving at our destination. I believe it is much needed. There has been a disquieting atmosphere on the ship since my return from the borg. I believe some respite will relieve the tension.

 

Captain’s Log, Stardate: 43989.3.

I’ve just woken from a terrible dream and can’t find it in myself to go back to sleep. I don’t remember much from the dream itself but I can recall our- no, their voice in my head. They spoke so clearly it was as if I were still in the link itself. All they could seem to say was, “Locutus, you are of Borg,” over and over again. I believe my residual implants are effecting my unconscious mind, I’ll visit sick bay in the morning to see if my hypothesis is correct. But until then perhaps I’ll read a book with a cup of earl gray. I don’t think I’ll be able to get back to sleep again. Not tonight.

 

Captain’s Log, Supplemental

I visited Beverley this morning to see about my implants. The diagnosis; there are indeed residual effects. Beverley has given me sleeping pills to take before bed, hopefully this will remedy the nightmares. In other news, we’ve picked up our passengers from Jupiter station. I made the decision to let Number One greet our guests as I believe my presence would upset them. It pains me to admit it but I’ve been hiding out in my ready room for most of the day for fear that if i go out I’ll run into one of them.

Every time I read a report of the death toll from that battle, I grow ill. And I don’t believe it’s the implants that are causing the sensation. Counselor Troi visited me upon sensing my apprehension to consult me. She told me to not blame myself, that I had no control over my own actions. That fact alone unsettles me to my very core. I’m sure the Counselor sensed my agitation over the idea but she did not address it. Part of me is grateful, I doubt I could ever say it aloud. But it is eating away at me. With each number that is added to the death toll I am further consumed by disgust and hatred towards the borg and myself.

I must push on of course. There’s nothing I can do but mourn the dead. But I cannot help but wonder, would the dead even want me to grieve in their honor? Something tells me they wouldn’t. I don’t blame them.

 

Captain’s Log, Stardate: 43989.4

We have arrived at Spacedock earlier than scheduled. I’m allowing the crew a day of shore leave before we embark for Hottar II. Counselor Troi is taking advantage of the time by holding a surprise party for Commander Riker’s birthday. I was hesitant to attend the party at first but Counselor Troi insisted I be in attendance if only for Number Ones sake. I’ve located an ancient record player from a friend of mine and several jazz records as gift for Number One. I believe it will be to his taste.

 

Captain’s Log, Supplemental

I’ve just returned from Number One’s birthday celebration. He was pleased with the party and my gift for that matter. He insisted that a record be played so that everyone could dance. I sat back and watched them all dance, particularly Beverley. I forgot how wonderfully she danced. It was gratifying to see the crew in this state, happy and enjoying themselves. I was beginning to worry I would never see anyone smile again. I’m glad I was proven wrong.

But I did notice an uneasiness when I attempted to interact with my fellow party goers. Conversations that were previously lively grew quiet when I stepped into the communal circle. Some even stepped away to join another group. I believe I was mistaken coming to the party. The crew is not ready for me to step back into my role as captain. I believe it would be wise for me to keep socialization down to a minimum, at least until the implants can be removed.

 

Captain’s Log, Supplemental

Sleep has evaded me again. It seems Beverleys pills are of no help. I’ve taken another dose and await its effects to take me. In the meantime, I am forced to confront the thoughts I’ve been avoiding since my link was severed.

I miss it.

As each day, each hour passes I find myself growing cold. My whole being craves the warmth of the borg and the safety of collective thought. I had not known true loneliness until now. I ache for the knowledge and understanding we-,they possess.

And this fact, this feeling, disgusts me. I cannot bring myself to look in the mirror anymore. I don’t think I could look upon the man I saw there. I often ask myself if the Federation would have been better off if Jean-Luc Picard died in that borg cube. For the greater good, I believe so.

 

Captain’s Log, Stardate: 43989.6

The Enterprise has embarked toward Hottar II to deliver medical supplies to its resident colony. I’m told the medical supplies are badly needed. I’ve instructed we travel at warp seven at least so the colony receives their supplies as soon as possible. I’ve also taken the extra step and instructed Beverley to help the colonists in any way she can when we arrive.

On a different note, the uneasiness I experienced at the party has spread to my own senior staff, particularly with Commander Data who has been aloof around me since the incident. I’ve asked Counselor Troi if she knew the root of his behavior but she is just as clueless as I am it seems. Somehow this hurts me most of all.

 

Captain’s Log, Supplemental

Late this evening, I confronted Commander Data in Ten Forward. It had not been my intention, in fact I hadn’t expected to see him at all, or anyone for that matter. Guinan had assured me that a change of atmosphere from my quarters or the bridge would do me good. I recall the scene so clearly in my mind now.

I had sat down with a cup of tea and book when Data entered Ten Forward. I believe he hadn’t expected anyone to be there either. For whatever reason, perhaps out of my desperation for conversation, I invited him to sit with me. He didn’t speak a word. Not for sometime. I couldn’t stand the quiet or the way he looked at me. I asked him why he’d been avoiding me which in hindsight was entirely inappropriate but I cannot take it back now.

I recall what he said verbatim. “Captain, if I may speak freely, I have been somewhat unnerved since our encounter with the borg.”

I asked him, how so?

“I was not sure myself until I spoke to Geordi about my dilemma. He explained that when you see someone you hold in high regard, a hero, in a state of vulnerability, the experience can be disconcerting. Geordi suggested that this may have been what I have been experiencing since our encounter. And I must apologize for my standoffish behavior captain, it was not my intention to cause you distress.”

I wasn’t sure how to reply to him. I assured him it was alright and that I had been in his position myself. And I have been, many times in my life. Though I’ve never been on the other side of it. It’s a strange feeling. Especially hearing it from Data. I excused myself from Ten Forward after that.

Sleep will evade me again tonight, I’m sure of it.

 

Captain’s Log, Stardate: 43989.7

We have arrived at Hottar II to discover that a small plague has broken out among the colonists. Beverley is looking into creating a cure for the disease, she tells me it shouldn’t be too difficult a task.

Meanwhile, at long last my implants have been removed. It was not a painful procedure and no lasting marks were left. I suppose this disappoints me. Something should be there, some mark, some reminder of what I’ve done. I believe I’m searching for a penance to pay. It’s not right that I sit here in my ready room on the flagship of the Federation with the blood of thousands on my hands. It is despicable.

Perhaps I should call Counselor Troi.

 

Captain’s Log, Supplemental

Counselor Troi has recommended me for a temporary leave of absence. She thinks some time away from the Enterprise would be the best solution to my problem. We are headed for Earth. I don’t know where I’ll go. My mind turns to France and to my brother Robert. It’s been twenty years since I saw him last. I don’t know if I can face him now after what I’ve done.

I walked the halls of the Enterprise tonight when everyone was asleep. It no longer feels like my ship or my crew. I’m beginning to wonder if I should be captain at all. The thought nags at me all the time. We arrive at Earth tomorrow morning. I’ve decided to see Robert and his family. Perhaps the belonging I seek lies in the vineyards of France.

What disturbs me is that at every moment, Locutus is here, inside me. No matter where I go he follows. I don’t know if I can live with it.

End of Captain’s Log.


End file.
